The Penalty Killing by Michael McKinley

Author:Michael McKinley [McKinley, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-7710-5580-5
Publisher: McClelland & Stewart
Published: 2010-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

35

Carter stood in the pounding rain in front of Hayley’s building, scanning the car lights on Broadway for a sign of Gracie and her unmissable car. But he knew that he had just been played. The perfect ending now would be the cops pulling up and shooting him in self-defence.

The Kingdom of Over.

He had to get out of there, fast, but he had just learned the Law of Rainy Nights in Vancouver: the harder the downpour, the fewer the taxis for hire. He might as well have been looking for UFOs.

He was standing under a streetlight, sifting through his change to see if he had enough for the bus, when a train horn sounded to his left.

He looked up and there was Gracie in her Valiant, beckoning him.

“What the fuck?” Carter said.

“I can take that several ways,” she replied calmly. “But you probably mean my Wolo Cannon Ball Express horn. Hey, if you drive in this city, you need this thing.”

“I mean, what the fuck?”

“You’re welcome,” she said, easing them into traffic. “Not only did the cops not arrest you, the hard drive is safe in my bag.”

Her purse was sitting next to him on the turquoise-and-white vinyl seat. He reached for it, but she grabbed his hand. “Not even if we were married,” she said, with a smile, and took his hand off her bag. Then she opened it, one-handed, and flashed him the hard drive.

“Thanks,” he said.

“You’re welcome again,” she replied, then drove the car two blocks and pulled up in front of a brightly lit box store called 24-7. “I’ll be right back,” she said, handing him the hard drive and taking her bag.

“Where are you going?”

“Getting a friend for Hayley’s hard drive. Don’t go anywhere.”

Five minutes later she was back and handed Carter a plastic bag. Inside it was a box labelled External Hard Drive Enclosure. “You owe me $21.99,” she said, starting the car. “But I’ll waive the debt if this thing finds us the Yellow Brick Road. Now, where are you staying?”

“The Sylvia.”

“Good bar. Under your own name?”

“Yes.”

“Time to go.”

Gracie dropped him at the ivied entrance. Carter cursed under his breath when he saw that the same clerk who had checked him in was on duty, but she didn’t even blink in recognition. His short hair and moustache had changed him that much. Five minutes later he was back in Gracie’s car with his duffel bag.

“So, what next?”

“Plan C.”

She pushed the drive button on the transmission and aimed the car toward Beach Avenue.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Somewhere safe.”

“‘I would give all my fame for a pot of ale, and safety.’”

She smiled. “Life Tourette’s?”

“My favourite line in Shakespeare.”

“You’ll like the boat then.”

The Burrard Marina, tucked under the art deco Burrard Bridge, was deserted but for the fleet of moored sailboats. Of course it would be, Carter thought. Who but a head case and his all-too-willing accomplice would go boating after midnight, in the rain?

Gracie parked the car and set off at a determined pace. Carter followed, his eyes on her purse like a dog’s on a bone.

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